


Getting the Scent

by AnnetheCatDetective



Category: Nine Months (1995)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, M/M, Pet Names, Scent Kink, fixing everything about this crap movie with D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 20:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16415795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: Sean gets railroaded into a day out, and what he comes home to... well, it's just everything he could have asked for.





	Getting the Scent

**Author's Note:**

> This is chronologically the first of the snippets I think I'll be writing for them-- at the very least, it's set before Desperate, and is the first I'll write unless I go back and take a stab at their first time.

    It’s not that Sean hates his family, exactly. It’s his family. They’re just a little unbearable in large doses. He doesn’t think his brother-in-law can help being annoying, it’s definitely too late to hope for much change from his sister, and neither of them does a thing to control their kids, but they’re his _family_.

 

    It’s exhausting to spend the day with them sometimes, but he does it when she invites him and he hasn’t got any real reason to refuse, and he doesn’t think his sister would take ‘it’s Sam’s day off’ for a real reason. She doesn’t _know_ about Sam and he doesn’t know how to tell her. Not just because every time his bisexuality comes up, she tsks and asks if he’s ‘still doing that’. More because she liked Rebecca so much, is still friends with Rebecca, and therefore her opinion of Sam in the wake of everything… well. It’s not like he’d run off, they were incompatible and this was what made the problems clear. Maybe she feels sore about it, and maybe she has every right to, but it’s not like Sam hadn’t done right by her, offered whatever support she could ask for, drew the lines he needed to while keeping himself available enough. He’d been responsible and not uncaring, but he’d deserved happiness, had had as much right as anyone to decide what was best for him and what was only going to end in worse heartache.

 

    He’s eager to get home to Sam, after the time spent with them. Sam… sweet, understanding, supportive Sam. Sam, who doesn’t expect him to be anything other than himself, and whose criticisms when they come are not really harsh ones. Not really ‘criticism’, even, just the kind of gentle ribbing that passes between friends. Well… maybe ‘friends’ is no longer the word. At least, it’s not the only word, not the best, most accurate word. It’s not not the word.

 

    When he gets home, he finds Sam in the bedroom-- specifically, he finds Sam lying in bed, his face _buried_ in a sweat-stained grey tee shirt. And what’s visible of his expression is _beautiful_.

 

    “Puppy…” Sean purrs, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you getting into, huh?”

 

    Sam jerks up, startled, the look on his face going from rapturous to embarrassed, and as pretty as he is all red in the face, well… real embarrassment? Can’t have that… it’s Sean’s _duty_ to make sure Sam doesn’t feel real embarrassment over what they do, what they have. Not for long, at least.

 

    He stalks his way over to the bed, reaches out to cup Sam’s cheek. He can feel the heat… He’s riveted by those big, blue eyes, the wobble of that lower lip…

 

    “Did you miss me?” He grins. “I missed you.”

 

    “I was just… that is, well, erm-- I mean, yes, I did, I just-- I know how this _looks_ , Sean, really, I do, but I can assure you I--”

 

    “You like to smell me when I’m not around? It’s okay… it’s _sweet_. But I’m here now. So why don’t I take care of you? And you can save pawing through the laundry for the next time I’m out, huh, honey? Let me take care of you now. There’ll always be some laundry around next time”

 

    He plucks the shirt out of Sam’s hands, and Sam lets him, reaching out to hold onto Sean instead, hands at his waist, fisting into the shirt he’s wearing. And those eyes… so wide, so wet, as he lets Sean guide him in. His hand slips from Sam’s cheek up into his hair, and he encourages him to nuzzle to his heart’s content, standing by the bed.

 

    “I missed you.” Sam sighs, his face pressed against Sean’s abdomen.

 

    “I missed you. My sweet puppy…”

 

    “Mm, ‘m a puppy now?” He asks, voice muffled.

 

    “My puppy.”

 

    “Okay.”

 

    “Now… c’mere, need you to tell me… Is this something you, uh, get off to? Or is it a comfort thing? No wrong answer, baby, but I want to do the best job I can do taking care of you.”

 

    “Comfort. Mostly. But… a little, erm… I mean… Just-- Sometimes I… like the way you smell. I mean, if the mood is, is there, and I’m thinking of how it smells when we’re, well, you know… How you smell, when we… make love.”

 

    “Come up here.” Sean urges, pulling Sam up into his arms. He holds him tight a long moment, nuzzling against his temple. Breathing in the sweet herbal-floral scent of his shampoo, the slight skin musk, the spice of the aftershave lotion he’d borrowed. Well, it’s not really ‘borrowing’ now, Sam lives with him, can use the same aftershave, the same anything, if he likes. Although… Sean would miss that shampoo if Sam started using his instead. It smells so delightfully androgynous on him, and it certainly does the job it’s supposed to, his hair is so touchable, so nice...

 

    He can’t deny he likes the idea that Sam might use the aftershave because it reminds him of Sean, though… Who knew he was so olfactorily motivated? Oh, and Sam… Sam tucks himself right in against Sean’s throat and breathes him in deep in return, nuzzles right back, practically _snuffles_ at him. Definitely a puppy.

 

    The endearment had slipped out before once, during aftercare, amidst a slew of others, and it feels all the more apt now.

 

    “What do you need, honey, huh?” He kisses his temple, the top of his head, runs a hand up and down his back. “You need anything… special?”

 

    “You.” Sam sighs it out against his throat, clings tight and presses close and shivers in his arms. He’s never in his life met someone so eager to be dommed as Sam is… Which, to be fair, he’d suspected was the case when they first became friends. Sam had that aura… sort of helpless and eager to please. But Sam hadn’t even been out to himself, and while Sean could guess, it could have been wishful thinking, too.

 

    He’d fantasized, anyway, now and then. Thought about sliding his hand around the back of Sam’s neck in the locker room before a friendly game of tennis and dragging him in for a kiss, asking him what he wanted to wager. Imagined the after, imagined being the one to teach him how to take a cock, or imagined pressing him up against the wall before dropping to his knees, the way he’d whimper and squirm and say anyone might walk in, but he’d stop protesting fast if Sean threatened to stop… how he’d come apart for a blowjob from someone who really knew what he was doing.

 

    He’d thought there was no hope. After all, then there was Rebecca, and that had gone on for years, and it’s not as if he’d let himself examine his feelings for Sam much. It’s not as if he’d spent his time pining. He’d had his fun, and he’d enjoyed Sam’s friendship and the odd fleeting fantasy-- and the fantasies weren’t always sexual, either. Sometimes he just thought about how pretty he’d be all tied up, how obedient… how it might relax him, when he was stressed. But there hadn’t been any way to bring that one up as a thing friends might do for each other, he’d known how anything kinky would sound even if he was offering it in a purely platonic sense.

 

    Just as well he’d waited for this, he’s not sure he ever could have resisted Sam as a submissive, he’d have fucked things up trying to make it platonic. But he hadn’t been able to help those little moments of testing the waters, of a guiding touch here or a reassuring word in his Dom voice there… just to show himself Sam would respond to that, if he took things there. And then he’d tell himself he couldn’t.

 

    He’s absolutely sure he blows Rebecca out of the water where sex is concerned, anyway. Even without the kink. Not that he wastes a lot of time comparing them now that Sam is his, he knows he takes good care of him, he doesn’t need to worry about past partners.

 

    He just takes a little pride in what he does, that’s all.

 

    Sean undresses Sam with sure, steady hands, positioning him as necessary, whispering snatches of praise for how well Sam moves with him. A little touch is all it takes, and Sam goes where Sean wants him, holds himself how Sean wants him to.

 

    “Such a good boy…” He sighs, gently pushing him down to the bed again. “Wait for me just a sec, baby, and, uh… open those legs for me.”

 

    He gives a pat to one knee, grinning as Sam immediately positions himself. He strips out of his own clothes, Sam watching him, giving a little anticipatory squirm. He takes a little more time than he has to sauntering to the bathroom-- and it’s not as if running the tube of lube under the hot water is a necessary step, but sometimes he just likes to cater to Sam’s comfort more than he likes the little yelp he gives when it’s cold.

 

    When he gets back to the bed, Sam’s got the tee shirt held up to his face again, and Sean groans just taking in the sight of him, lets him keep hold of it.

 

    He snaps a glove on before he starts getting Sam opened up-- doesn’t normally bother with that, but it’s the easiest way of making sure his hands will be clean and not slippery, and he plans on needing both of them, and he doesn’t want his grip compromised.

 

    He takes a seat, and he gets Sam swung into his lap and eased down onto his cock, guides Sam to nuzzle back into his throat and breathe him in.

 

    “Hold on, honey…” He murmurs, and Sam does, grips tight to his shoulders and snuggles in even tighter. “You ready?”

 

    “Please…”

 

    “Okay. Just keep holding on, I’ll take care of you.” Sean promises, and he gets that good, secure grip that he needs and lifts Sam up, brings him back down. The _sounds_ he makes… and all Sean has to do is keep a nice tight hold on him, give him exactly as much as he needs. And Sam, Sam loves that, loves being moved around and used, being at Sean’s mercy.

 

    He really is the most perfect sub… so ready to come apart for Sean, so eager… loves to be manhandled, loves to be _fucked_ , loves to be bound or to play with sensation and pain, certainly loves to be coddled after and doted on, but that he needs Sean’s presence so much, that he seeks out the smell of him when he’s gone… that he’s so desperate to feel close to him, well that is a gift.

 

    He can’t help but reward that kind of sweetness.

 

    And Sam, oh, Sam takes to being rewarded so well… with his face buried against Sean’s neck, holding on so tight and keening against him each time he’s raised up and brought back down hard…

 

    “That’s right, baby… oh, honey, that’s just right, isn’t it?” He groans. His arms and shoulders are going to be sore later, and it’s going to be so worth it, if he can get Sam strung out on pleasure… the physical pleasure of being slammed down onto a hard, waiting cock, the mental, emotional pleasure of being Sean’s to play with…

 

    Sam chokes out a sob that’s almost a ‘yes’, kisses the side of Sean’s neck with a frantic desperation that’s just too endearing. It feels nice, sure, but not half as nice as the knowledge that Sam needs him so much. Needs to feel and smell and taste him… needs to kiss him, with lots of tongue and the occasional over-eager, careless scrape of teeth.

 

    Sean knows Doms who make hard and fast rules about being marked up in return, but he can’t understand that. Oh, sure, no intentional marks during a scene, that’s a fair rule, but the idea of forbidding this, it’s unthinkable. Forbidding the passion of it, the want? If Sam leaves a hickey, he leaves a hickey, and Sean isn’t exactly going to be ashamed of that. How anyone could look at such raw enthusiasm and want to dampen it, he doesn’t know. All he wants is to push past the nervousness and the propriety and the layers and layers of ‘should’ and ‘ought to’ and free the helpless wild thing within.

 

    He leaves Sam fully seated, when he starts getting a little too close himself, though the strain on his arms is at least some distraction from his own pleasure. Snakes a hand between them, wraps his other arm around Sam’s waist and just holds him close as he strokes his cock. That little helping hand Sam needs to finish-- well, not that he always needs it, so _sensitive_ , Sam, so _responsive_ \-- and it’s all Sean needs to finish, to have Sam clenching tighter around him, squirming and moaning and mouthing at his throat, nails biting into Sean’s shoulders when he clings even tighter. The rapid-fire litany of ‘oh Sean please’, and every combination of those parts, and the moment when his release spills out into Sean’s hand, the shiver that runs through him and the way he whines in the back of his throat when Sean keeps stroking him just that little bit more, whispers hot in his ear, tells Sam to go ahead and give him _everything_. Every little tic and spasm and heaving breath that pull Sean right after him.

 

    He cleans him up after they’re done, with all the pauses for kisses the mood demands.

 

    “Sammy, puppy…” He presses him down to the mattress, lies on top of him to keep him pinned, duvet rising around them like a cloud. “Do I make my boy happy?”

 

    “Yes…” Sam sighs, his eyes soft, his smile dazed.

 

    “Good.” He grabs for the shirt, tucking it up at Sam’s shoulder, a little bundle resting against the curve of his neck, and all he has to do is tilt his head just so to find his nose buried in it. “I’ll be here as often as I can for your days off, honey, but when I’ve got to be somewhere else you can sleep on my side of the bed, you can take my laundry, if you want to wear my dirty gym shirts, baby, you can. Everything that’s mine is yours when you need it, honey. You, uh, you help yourself, if that’s gonna make you feel safe and cozy.”

 

    Sam hums, letting his head flop to the side, tucking in his chin to bring his nose down to the wadded up tee shirt. He takes one deep breath and then relaxes further, smiling back up at Sean once more. “You mean it?”

 

    “Of course, of course I do, course I do… oh, honey, every word.” Sean promises, kisses him again. Forehead, temple, both cheeks, lips… and then a couple more for good measure. “You wanna wear my shirt, baby? Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

 

    He sits up, and sits Sam up, helps him get the shirt pulled on, his arms through the right holes, and he leaves it at that, just a tee shirt, not even boxers.

 

    “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, I ever… ha, I ever tell you that, puppy? I ever tell you you’re the cutest?”

 

    Sam bites his lip against a grin, shaking his head a moment before realizing his mistake, nodding instead. “You tell me.”

 

    “Well, I’m right.” He tugs at the hem of the shirt a bit, not that he cares much about straightening it. Lets his hand brush Sam’s spent cock here and there as he goes about ‘fixing’ how the shirt sits on him. Sam’s a tall guy, out in the world, but here in bed when it’s just the two of them, well… he seems so little. So in need of protecting. Such a sweet thing, why… with only Sean to measure him against, he looks downright _petite_. Delicate.

 

    _Pretty_. Pretty and boyish and soft, that gentle smile, that tenderness in his eyes, that floppy hair… The sort of man you just want to take care of. Just a lovey puppy of a guy.

 

    Oh, Sean adores him.

 

    “How was your thing, your day, the family?” Sam asks, reaching up to cup Sean’s face.

 

    “Next time she calls on your day off, I’m not going. I don’t care if she thinks it’s no reason to beg off family time, I’m not doing it.” He groans. “They’re fine. It was, some of it was fun. I like being the fun uncle, but a whole day is exhausting.”

 

    “They are.. Spirited.”

 

    “Of course, it would be different… if I could just take you…”

 

    “Take me where?”

 

    “The zoo.”

 

    “The zoo?” Sam laughs softly. Sean watches the way things travel across his face, confusion, amusement, uncertainty, delight. “Is that not a bit… I mean, you would take _me_ \-- Is that--? Really?”

 

    “Sure. Buy you ice cream. Take you to see the tigers.”

 

    “Yes-- ah, yes, well. You’re more than enough tiger for me.” He blushes, his arms wrapping around Sean.

 

    He laughs, giving a growl and nipping at Sam’s ear. “I’ll take you to see something else, then. Tiger, huh?”

 

    “Well… I mean you could still take me to see real ones if you-- I just-- You don’t think-- I mean… we would, would we go just us, or with your family, or-- Are we, erm, holding hands, at the zoo?”

 

    “Puppy, I’ll hold onto you anywhere. And yeah. If you don’t mind being out with my family, I’d take you. But we could just go. It doesn’t have to be the zoo, I mean, it could, ah… I could take you to a museum, but they frown on walking around with ice cream… Might, uh, might plan a picnic day, next day off you get? Outside the Palace of Fine Arts? Could still get in some, some fresh air… some ice cream, even. But… yeah. I’d take you with me on a family thing if you think you can stand it.”

 

    “And they’d know about us?”

 

    “When you’re ready. I’m not in the closet, Sammy, I’m ready when you are.”

 

    “I’m not, exactly, myself, just… Your family, that’s different, isn’t it?” He frowns, but it’s thoughtful, not upset. There’s still a warm, hopeful cast to his eyes, stronger than the flickers of worry.

 

    “Well… it means you’re something serious. It… changes things, for them to know. But not in a big, scary way.” He nips at Sam’s ear again, kisses his cheek. “Unless you’re worried about Gail talking to Rebecca?”

 

    “I didn’t… I didn’t tell her, that I’ve-- moved on, or… That I’m, we’re-- Do I owe her that? She’ll think so, or at least she’ll be upset, won’t she, hearing it from someone else?”

 

    “You could call her. Let her know you’re in a relationship. You’re still there for her as a friend. You hope she meets the right guy for her.” He shrugs, rolling onto his back and dragging Sam with him, dragging a blanket over them. He bundles him close, smiling when Sam nuzzles right in against his throat, when he feels him breathe in deep. “Puppy, we don’t have to be out to my family yet. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, just you and me.”

 

    “I like that.” Sam sighs.

 

    “Where do you want to go?”

 

    “No, I mean-- ‘puppy’.” He tucks himself even closer, words muffled, blush hidden, and Sean plays with his hair. “I like-- I like that. It feels like it’s, well, like it’s all mine.”

 

    “Everything’s yours.”

 

    He laughs, soft, and kisses Sean’s neck. “But… I mean… it feels like, like there hasn’t been another ‘puppy’. Like-- anyone could be, you know, ‘honey’ or ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’, there could have been a hundred ‘honeys’, but ‘puppy’ is just me. Is-- isn’t it?”

 

    “Just you.” Sean promises. “I’ve never had a ‘puppy’ before. And if I did, they could never have fit the bill like you do… My sweet, beautiful boy… You know, ever since we met, you’ve been… you’ve been everything.”

 

    “Haven’t.”

 

    “Honey, baby, sweetheart… all of it. It’s been you. I thought you wouldn’t want this. I thought I had to let you go. But no one else ever made me feel like settling down.”

 

    “I’m sure you minded so much. Sowing your wild oats.”

   

    “Oh, _I_ was very careful not to sow anything, thank you very much.” Sean pokes at Sam’s ribs. “No… you’re worth the wait. But I mean it, I always did want you. I, uh… I always did think you’d be… just the sweetest. Thought I’d take such good care of you, if you were mine.”

 

    “I’m yours.” Sam sighs. “I-- I like being all of it, I don’t mind any of the other names. I just… I like being your puppy.”

 

    “Well, good, because you are. You’re ‘puppy’, I’m ‘tiger’.” He gives another playful growl, grins at the way Sam wriggles in his arms and tries to get even closer to him, as if closer were possible. What a sweet little thing…

 

    What a feeling!

 

    To have Sam, _his_ , wanting to be his… hooked on the scent of him, eager for a pet name that’s never been anyone else’s, as if anyone else wouldn’t pale next to him in every way, as if he could think of anyone else with any endearment on his lips now that Sam is so eager to belong to him…

 

    “I should get you a collar.”

 

    “What… because I’m ‘puppy’?” Sam lifts his head, blinking. A little owlish at the sudden flood of light from not having his face hidden against Sean’s neck, but he smiles when his cheek is stroked.

 

    “Well… yeah, a little. Because I’m your Dom and I want to stay that way. To have a little something that says you’re mine all mine, that… that’s permanent. It’s a commitment. It’s one I haven’t really made before. It’s… not something to take lightly-- you should think about whether you want one. But… I mean, I mean, fuck, Sammy, coming home to you like that, and… I want to take care of you forever. I want to give you the things you need, I want to be the one who makes you feel safe and comfortable, the one who turns you on. I want to be the guy you breathe in when you need to feel better. I… I could want that forever.”

 

    “Oh… _Sean_. It-- You-- Forever?”

 

    “Terrifying, isn’t it?”

 

    Sam shakes his head. “Not if it’s you. Erm… _Tiger_.”

 

    Sean rolls them back over again, pinning Sam down and tugging the neck of his shirt to allow for him to leave a hickey at his collarbone. Growls against him at the delighted little ‘oh’.

 

    “Sean-- Sean--”

 

    “Mm?”

 

    “Can I, erm… can I wear your shirt, when I, ah… when I do talk to Rebecca, about all of this?”

 

    “Baby, you can wear my shirt, my socks, my cologne, you can wear my underwear if you want to.”

 

    “I’m not sure how that’s wise or helpful.” He laughs, winding his arms about Sean’s neck. “They wouldn’t fit me right, and I shouldn’t think I’d be able to smell them from that distance. Unless you wore them a week straight-- and please don’t.”

 

    “If you asked me to, Sammy, I would. But I would not enjoy it.” He snorts, kisses him gently. “When you decide to give her a call, you just… you just tuck that nose right in against me and take a minute beforehand, get your head right. I’ll work up as much, or, uh, or as little sweat as you want me to. Then I’ll give you my shirt. And if you need to meet up with her someplace nice, I’ll make sure I’ve got a nice shirt you can wear.”

 

    “Thank you.” Sam leans up to kiss him, missing his lips by a fraction and hitting his chin before course-correcting for something sweet and leisurely. “And tiger? You can take care of me any time.”


End file.
